Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “I don't... there is something about that guy,” Twilk chittered.

  “He's nice. Helpful. Hell, he's saved all our asses,” Yuri said. He scratched under his goatee.

  “That's just it. He's too nice. Too helpful. Makes me uneasy,” the Veraxin said. Yuri turned on him with a glare.

  “He's helpful and that bothers you?”

  “No one is that helpful. He must want something.” Others around them nodded. Yuri shook his head.

  “The guy's an engineer. He's a fix-it kind of guy. Can you blame him for seeing something and wanting to fix it?”

  “I've known people like that,” Derrick said with an amused smile as he sat back and picked at his teeth with a plastic toothpick. “Some people can't leave well enough alone. They see something broke and dive right in.”

  “And what's wrong with that?” Yuri demanded.

  “Nothin. Nothin t'all. Just saying is all. I like the guy don't get me wrong. I'm glad he's on our side. On our ship I mean. I wonder what the old girl is going to be like by the time we get to Antigua?” he drawled amused.

  Voices around then began to murmur. Yuri looked around and nodded. “Right. The guy is a blast from the past. We've had experience with sleepers before. All of you know how that works. Those that have engineering experience do wonders on the ship while we have them aboard. Let's take advantage of that. Play nice. Who knows? Maybe he'll really rebuild everything.”

  “I heard he's going to rebuild the hyperdrive before we leave. Any truth to that?” Derrick asked sitting forward and resting his forearms on the table in front of him.

  Yuri cocked his head as people really started to chatter. After a moment he shrugged. “No idea. I just met the guy. I'm for one going to look forward to getting to know him better though. I'd love to see what else he can teach me,” he said with a smile.

  “I wonder if he can fix EVA suits?” someone in the back asked.

  “What about electronics? Can he do electronics?”

  “What about the force emitters? The gravity in my room is messed up again. Been that way off and on for years! Think he can do something about it?”

  Yuri listened to the excited chatter and looked at Derrick. The big man wiggled the end of the toothpick up and down and from side to side. From the look of him he was amused. Good.

  O'Mallory looked at the rear end of Barry hanging out of the cockpit of the Scarab and sighed. When that didn't get a reaction she tapped her foot. A few of the techs looked over to her then back to what they were doing, clearly trying to steer clear of whatever was about to happen.

  When the tapping didn't get through over the cussing and clattering in the room she cleared her throat. An air wrench went off making her wince. Barry's right hand reached up, fumbled around and then dipped into his tool box. He pulled out a set of leads connected to a multitester and then made them disappear.

  “Boss um...” a Veraxin tech looked at her.

  “Yes?” she asked, raising her voice.

  “Do you think that admiral fellow could replicate us some parts? The ignition is clogged again. We've got one side cleared but the other is messed up. The scarab just goes in circles. Also there are some faults we're trying to run down now,” the Veraxin indicated Barry.

  “Faults?” Quinna asked, raising an eyebrow. Normally they just did what they could and then crossed their fingers when they couldn't do anymore.

  “In the RCS. And the life support. And the communications. And the sensors,” Barry answered loudly, not bothering to pull himself up to look at her. The Scarab was a beast to work on, a bug. Someone had said it looked like a banana. It was a half circle, with the drives on the outside of the curve and three manipulator arms on the inside and on the underside tip of the curve. The top had the tiny cockpit. Doors and RCS thrusters were all over the thing. Some of the thrusters worked, some didn't. She for one had no intention of flying the damn thing.

  In order to land it you had to come in and land face down for one. The manipulator arms doubled as landing legs. It really did look like a bug. It was a pain in the ass to get in and out of as well. You had to pop the cockpit and climb down the leg without throwing the entire thing off balance and tipping it over. If you popped your security webbing before you braced you ended up doing a belly flop on the deck below.

  She for one would never fly the damn thing. Banana indeed. You had to be crazy to fly it. Which didn't mean she didn't need it out doing its job right now though. Someone had to fly the thing.

  “Barry...” she sighed, hands on her hips. She was tired and getting crankier by the minute.

  “Don't get me started on running the power plant of this thing at one hundred percent for what? Twenty hours? Twenty one? We need an overhaul,” he growled. His voice echoed from inside the little ship. A tech was standing under it, working on the cockpit. She could hear rigger tape ripping as they fixed the seat cushion again. That figured.

  “Everything on this ship does Barry,” she said, reining in her temper with difficulty. It wasn't like that was ever going to change. They learned to trade for parts they needed, cannibalize parts from something else and make them fit, or figure a work around. Or learn to do without, which was what sometimes was a necessary thing to do.

  A young tech came in holding a plastic tray and carrying coils of material on her shoulders. She blinked at the Chief in her way and then passed at a trot. She shot a confused look back over her shoulder. Clearly the girl wasn't sure why the chief was there. “Here you go Barry,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “You said you needed an R-451 board, let’s see... I did what I could with your list...” she said. He pulled himself up and looked at the tray the girl set down on the step. She picked her way through it as he wiped his hands on his coverall pants.

  “Where did you find the parts?” he asked. An R-451 was almost impossible to come by. “Hey this is like brand new!” he said picking the piece up and turning it over and over as he inspected it.

  “That admiral fellow showed us how to replicate parts with a food replicator. Martha showed Jen who showed me. It can't do chips but it can do plastic pretty good. I've got the replacement hoses for the life support here,” she said, taking a coil off her shoulder and handing it to him. He looked it over. “Also ODN line and power leads. The adapters are in the baggie there,” she said pointing. He looked down to the set of bags on one edge of the tray. One was filled with plastic clips.

  “Well all right!” he said with a grin. “We should be able to get this bucket of bolts going in no time then!” he said with a grin.

  “We aim to please. We've got, well um; Jen's got a crew working down a list. Martha's gone to dinner.”

  “What about the injectors?” Barry asked.

  The girl shrugged. “We tagged them for the Admiral since he has to replicate them. Should take about twenty minutes once he gets through the rash of priorities ahead of them.”

  “Thought you wanted this done now?” Barry asked, turning his attention on O'Mallory.

  O'Mallory blinked and then frowned as the others in the bay turned their attention her way. “I do,” she said.

  “Yeah but fixing the leaks inside and getting the overloaded life support fixed is critical,” Fara said, running her hands through her short black and purple hair and then shrugging. “Least that's what I've been told,” she said with an annoyed shrug.

  “It is. We don't need a leak inside. But we need the exterior leaks patched fast.”

  “The gorilla's on it.”

  O'Mallory's eyes narrowed at the dismissive sound in that statement. No one really liked saying Petunia's name. It was absurd for something so big to have such a goofy name. “They are working on it true. But fixing the leak near the reactor is more complex. It's also dangerous for a suited tech.”

  “Get that admiral guy to do it. Kill two birds with one stone,” a tech said. “Make the captain happy and get him out of our hair,” he said with a sniff.

  “Ad
miral Irons? Why are you so bent on that?” O'Mallory asked turning to round on the hapless tech. She had no problems sending someone into a dangerous situation. She'd do it herself and was ready to do it. But why the captain and now some of the crew were so ready to... She shook the thought off with a frown. “Irons isn't crew. We are. Our responsibility,” she said firmly.

  “True,” Fara said with a nod. “I've got to go. I'm going to see if we've got another working replicator nearby. Maybe it can cut down on time. If it's got raw material,” she said wrinkling her pert nose.

  Barry nodded. “Thanks kiddo. Can you see if you can rustle up some grub for us? Oh and a new...”

  “Yeah yeah, the injector...” she said waving a dismissive hand in the air as she walked towards the hatch. “Some people are never happy even when things are going better,” she said, glaring at the chief and then the others. “Just saying,” she said, eyes falling, hands in her pockets. She kicked a wrapper off to one side as she walked out.

  “Kid's got a point I guess,” Barry said, using the tip of a screw driver to scratch the side of his head. “Think we all ought to keep that in mind and not look a gift horse in the mouth. This admiral guy's all right in my book. Fella's doing us all a favor. We should be grateful,” he said turning back to the boat.

  “Time?” The chief asked, crossing her arms.

  “As soon as it's ready I'll let you know,” he said just as someone hit the hull with a hammer. He snarled. “Fuck! What the hell did you do that for! Stupid! Geesh!” He threw his hands up in the air and climbed down the ladder. “Fuck now I've got to recheck and re-seat the seals since this birds so fucked up! Thanks!” he rounded on the sheepish tech.

  “Sorry boss, it was stuck.”

  “All else fails hit it. Rule one of an engineer,” O'Mallory murmured turning and shaking her head. “Get it done Barry.”

  “Get some rest chief. You're crabbier than usual and that's not a good thing.”

  “Bitch bitch,” she murmured walking out.

  “Still at it admiral?” Warner asked, meeting him in his launch. He was looking the military shuttle over. “Damn, wish mum and dad could see this.”

  “They can come down later,” Irons said nodding to crew working nearby. He went inside and booted Martha's replacement out with a thumb. The girl blinked and then got up. He shooed her off so he could sit and jack in. Her eyes went wide when she saw that.

  “You need... ah. Okay. Uploading keys now. One part each?” he asked. He opened his eyes and looked from Warner to the girl.

  “Um...” She toed the carpet. “Not sure.” She looked at the exec for confirmation.

  “Just make one of each for now unless they requested more,” the first mate answered.

  “Okay. Working. Tray is set up and off and running.”

  “How...”

  “If you want a class on replicators I'll upload it to the net later,” Irons said.

  “Done,” Sprite replied on the overhead. He like the others looked up and then at each other. He shrugged. “Sprite's pretty good at anticipating things.”

  “One of my jobs as an adjunct,” Sprite replied smugly.

  “True,” he said and then looked over to Warner. “Sit,” Irons indicated the seats nearby. Warner sat and rubbed his hands appreciatively over the plastic fabric. Irons wasn't sure if it was because it was military or comfortable. Or if it was because it wasn't patched over with riggers tape. The chairs in the galley had been covered in riggers tape.

  “Young lady?” he asked looking at the girl. The girl jumped like she'd been shocked.

  “Yes sir?” she asked surprised.

  “If you don't mind running the food replicator? I think some of these smaller bits can come out there if you feed it the raw material.”

  “Okay,” she bobbed a nod and then went to work. Warner looked over his shoulder to her and then back to Irons with a soft snort.

  “I'm curious about how things are going here,” Irons asked.

  “We're surviving. That's the testament to our crew. Past and present,” Warner said. Irons caught the girl's blush. He didn't mind her eavesdropping. Warner looked over his shoulder to her and then shrugged. He started to lay out some of the history of the ship.

  The engineer found out that the life support for the crew was overextended, and with so many mouths to feed the crew was on strict short rations. The ship only required one hundred forty to function, however with all the families on board they had converted most of the cargo bays to habitats. Everyone did something, even if it was make work. Most of the time it's just to keep busy and sane. Many had been stored in the stasis pods before injuries had filled them up. Warner shook his head. “We've done well. I mean yeah, she's a mess, but she's our mess. Our home. We've grafted in life support for this many people years ago. One of the smarter things our people did. Before my time anyway,” he shrugged. Irons nodded.

  “The captain had imposed a strict no pregnancy policy as well,” Warner continued. He didn't look at all happy about that. His marriage had broken up after his wife had been forced to abort last year. She'd left the ship. He felt the anger and hurt and gently put it aside.

  “Most of the crew are native spacers, being born in space they are too set in their ways and none want to become a dirt grub farmer on a battered colony.”

  Irons nodded in appreciation at that. “I'm a spacer brat myself. Born and bred on a ship like this,” he said indicating the Kiev. The girl looked at him with questioning eyes. He shrugged the look off.

  “Oh it's not all enclosed. I mean it is, we're in hyper for long stretches of time but well...” Warner shrugged. “Sometimes some of the crew have left to join other ships or space colonies, but the previous captain had rescued a stranded crew a few years ago, doubling the population.”

  That admission interested Irons. That and the fact that captain Chambers was new to the job. He wondered what had happened to the old captain. Had he died or had he been removed? That might be why Chambers was on edge about him.

  Jen bit her lip and looked at Warner. His voice had gotten a touch rough when he had mentioned that some of the crew had left. He was still stinging from his wife's departure.

  “What's the hyper speed?” the admiral asked, sensing the pall hanging over the first mate and wanting to change the subject before he became too maudlin to continue.

  “Oh god. Alpha band. Low notes. Bottom notes. It's a bumpy ride all the way,” Warner said with a sour look.

  “Shit.”

  “It's about six months to transit usually. Sometimes longer. The longest transit time is the Centennial jumps. Those can last upwards of seven or eight months.”

  “Ouch. Well, we'll see if we can do something about that,” Irons said. He wasn't thrilled to be stuck in hyper bumbling around for six months at a stretch.

  “Good,” Warner said with a nod. His eyes searched Irons. “So you'll stay?” he asked.

  “Well, let's just say I'm not about to go play in the dirt just yet,” the admiral replied with a tight lipped smile.

  “Good,” Jen said without thinking. The men looked up to the girl in amusement. She blushed. “Sorry. Can't help but overhear.”

  “That's fine,” Irons said before Warner could object.

  “Can you really get us up into a better octave?” she asked taking a tray of parts out and setting them onto a counter. She popped a block of plastic and a chunk of copper into the replicator and turned away as it dissolved. That part always freaked her out a bit.

  “Yes. Octave? Definitely. Band? I'd prefer beta at the very least but we'll see. It's a bit more complicated than just retuning and rebuilding the hyperdrive.”

  “Oh?” Jen asked. She bit her lip as she looked down at her tablet to see what was next to replicate.

  He smiled at her as she tapped in the order for the next part. “Of course. A ship works as an integrated being. Sensors, hull, shields, power, fuel, drives... it's all intermingled. For instance if your sensors suck then
if you go too fast you tend to run into things.”

  Warner winced at that. “And if you don't have proper shields, things you run into tend to make a mess.”

  “True. So we've got to bring all the ship's systems up.”

  “Oh,” Jen said. She sighed. “Sounds like a lot of work,” she said.

  Warner chuckled. Irons snorted. “I'm up for it. I've done it before. Before the Xeno war I was more into building then I was into repairing. Now I've spent most of the time I've been awake fixing ships and stations.”

  “Oh?”

  “Io 11 picked me up. I spent nearly a year rebuilding her from the keel up with the crew. She's almost factory new now.”

  “Wow!” Jen's eyes were wide. She looked down at Warner who pursed his lips.

  “Now don't go off spreading rumors just yet,” Warner cautioned. “Jen we can't have people getting too excited.”

  “Why not?” she demanded. “I'd think getting people excited would be great for morale!”

  “True,” Warner said cocking his head. “But we don't want to get their hopes up. After all Admiral Irons isn't sure he'll be staying long,” he cautioned.

  Jen looked at Irons who shrugged. She bit her lip again.

  “Injectors for the maintenance boat will be ready in a few minutes. Just as soon as we pull this section of plasma conduit out and wrestle it out of the ship,” Irons said as the lid of the replicator opened.

  “Okay,” Warner said getting up. “I'll give you a hand.” He moved forward and looked inside. The part was massive. “Um, on second thought I'll just go get a hover dolly.”

  “Smart man,” Irons said as the exec retreated. He reached in and pulled the conduit up and out. It was heavy, massing five hundred and fifty kilos but he could manage it.

  “Oh my!” Jen said backing away. “You...”

  “It's more bulky then it is heavy. I'll set it here for him.” He set the piece down and then started feeding bits of material that had been stacked nearby. Some were broken parts, some were raw material. A few were rocks. He snorted at that, looking at one and then shrugging as he set it inside. Whatever worked. It was all grist for the mill, or in this case the replicator, anyway.